


finding earrings: a t6t holiday one-shot

by what_a_gust



Series: t6t [2]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, Gender Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21797002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_gust/pseuds/what_a_gust
Relationships: Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Series: t6t [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412701
Comments: 4
Kudos: 119





	finding earrings: a t6t holiday one-shot

“It’s gonna be insane, babe,” Christen whines as she watches Tobin lace up her winter boots by the front door.

Tobin’s lower lip slips into a pout (she knows, they both know, Christen is powerless against it) as she forces her arms through the sleeves of her parka. 

“C’mon, for me? Please?” Tobin isn’t above begging. She understands Christen’s reluctance; the Holiday Market at Union Square is going to be a zoo. But it’s the weekend before Christmas and she still needs to find a gift for her mom. “Plus, it could be worse,” she points out when Christen still hasn’t gotten up from where she’s comfortably lounging on the couch. 

“How?” Christen groans as she finally stands and makes her way over to the coat closet. “How could it be worse?”

Tobin tilts her head, thinking, “Hmm, I could be making you come with me to the one at Bryant Park and force you to go ice skating with me?”

At that, Christen finally admits defeat and tugs her coat off the hanger. “Fine, I guess you’re right. That would be worse.”

“Thank you, baby.” Tobin pulls Christen in for a kiss by the lapels of her coat. “I promise, we’ll have fun.” Tobin kisses across her cheek until her lips are right below Christen’s ear, “and I’ll even buy you hot chocolate for the trouble.”

Christen can’t help but melt at the suggestion, though she knows Tobin would probably get herself hot chocolate anyway. She leans further into Tobin’s chest and takes a deep breath, inhaling the warm, woody scent of her cologne. “You’re lucky you’re warm and smell so good, otherwise I’d make you suffer and do the shopping on your own as punishment for procrastinating.”

“Well, I’ve gotten pretty far in life as a procrastinator,” Tobin teases as they make their way out of the apartment onto their icy stoop. “I have a great job, a beautiful girlfriend. What more could I want?”

Christen just shakes her head in embarrassment at Tobin’s cheesiness and starts off toward the subway.

//

The Christmas music filters down the stairs of the station as they make their way up to the market. Tobin bobs her head in excitement, an infectious sort of joy radiating off her.

“You’re the only sane person I know who doesn’t get tired of Christmas music,” Christen teases, linking her arm through Tobin’s elbow in an attempt to shelter herself from the biting wind.

“Well, Jesus is the Reason for the Season, and I love him, and I love music, so what’s not to love?”

“Fair enough,” Christen laughs, “but at this point I’m ready to have actual Christmas happen and then get on with it.”

Tobin shrugs noncommittally but the smirk on her face gives her away, “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, I’d be happy for it to be Christmas season all year-round.”

//

After weaving their way back and forth across each row the market, Christen stuffs her hands into the folds of her armpits for added warmth and shivers into her scarf. “T, do you have any idea what you want to get your mom yet? I appreciate you using my grocery shopping method but at this point it feels a little like you’re mocking me.”

“I’m impressed that you noticed,” Tobin winks at Christen conspiratorialy, “It’s payback for making me wait so long to eat lunch on our first date.”

“Are you for real? I can’t with you,” Christen shakes her head in laughter.

“What? I’m completely serious!” Tobin does her best to tamp down her excitement, to come across as even a little bit convincing. 

“It’s your fault--, never mind,” Christen puts her gloved hand over her eyes, still shaking her head, and turns to walk away.

Before she can get very far, Tobin pulls her back by the belt of her coat and she spins around to face her.

Tobin’s smile is soft and her eyes are warm, her cheeks are just the slightest bit wind-bitten and she looks the perfect picture of the season with her beanie sloping jauntily off her head. “I know it was my fault we had a late lunch but you’re just so irresistible.”

Christen bites her bottom lip in anticipation as Tobin leans in to kiss her and when she does, it makes Christen just a little weak in the knees.

Tobin pulls away for a moment to smile at Christen and their feelings pass wordlessly between them. She leans back in for seconds but Christen brings a hand up to her chest to stop her.

“You’re one to talk  _ Miss Ridiculously Charming _ , but if you don’t buy your mom a gift or me some hot chocolate within the next two minutes, I may just change my mind.”

//

“What do you think?” Tobin turns to Christen holding up what is either the fourth or fifth pair of earrings that all look incredibly similar.

She takes a slow sip of her hot chocolate, the good kind, the kind that tastes like warm chocolate pudding and coats her whole tongue each time she takes a sip, to put off giving Tobin the same exact response she’s given to every pair of earrings.  _ They’re lovely, delicate, beautiful, I’m sure your mom will love them. _

“T, honestly, I think she’ll love whichever pair you pick because they came from you. Just go with your gut, it’ll be fine.” She kisses Tobin’s cheek as a gesture of reassurance.

She knows Tobin’s indecision stems from insecurity. Something that rarely rears its head and when it does she tries desperately to hide. Her mom and sisters all have a similar sense of style that is very, distinctly, different from Tobin’s. She saw it first hand when Tobin brought her to family lunch after church for the first time. The three of them looked so clearly cut from the same cloth, so alike not just in appearance but also in disposition. 

Tobin had told her, as they were walking up the path from the driveway behind her mom, who had picked them up from the train, that they would be greeted by two more, very similar, women. Christen figured that Tobin was exaggerating when she said that she was a lot more like her brother, that she clearly stuck out when it was just the girls.

Her lack of interest in “girly” things was never a problem, they never made her feel bad on purpose, Tobin had shared with Christen as they crawled into bed later that night. They had always allowed her, encouraged her even, to express herself in whatever way was comfortable for her. But that didn’t prevent her from cringing at the family photos every once in a while and wishing that she could be like her sisters, like everyone else, and still feel like herself.

The discomfort had waned, for the most part, as she grew into herself. She revealed to Christen as they laid in the dark, tucked under the covers and tangled together, that she had forged an identity outside of her gender, first as an athlete and then as a doctor, that helped her reconcile all of the complicated parts of her.

Christen had nodded along, thanked Tobin for being so honest, for baring her soul.

She remembers all of this and it reinforces her patience. It’s human nature to put off or avoid the things that are uncomfortable. And as much as Tobin loves her mom, she still has trouble relating to her when it comes to jewelry and other expressions of femininity.

Though not by much, Christen knows that she adheres to more traditional gender norms than Tobin does. She doesn’t want to cross a line, to make Tobin feel further alienated by suggesting that she might be better able to pick something for Cindy than Tobin can. So she moves to stand behind Tobin, rests her chin on her shoulder, and says, “If you’re not sure which you like best, you could always just buy her more than one pair. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind that either.”

She can feel Tobin’s cheek against hers, tightening with a smile. “That’s a good idea, babe. I think you’re right. I’ll get both of these.”

//

They decide to walk home, having adjusted to the cool crisp air, and see if there’s anywhere they want to stop to eat on their way.

Tobin leads them down Broadway, her hands tucked in her pockets, Christen’s arm looped through hers.

“Thank you,” Tobin says looking straight ahead.

Christen lets the puzzlement play out on her face, “What for?”

“You know,” Tobin ducks her head down and tucks her chin into the opening of her coat, “for helping me pick out earrings,” her voice softens, almost to a whisper, “and for reminding me that I’m good as I am.”

Christen isn’t used to seeing Tobin so vulnerable, especially when they’re out and about rather than tucked away in the safety of their bed. 

She knows it doesn’t come easily to Tobin. That it’s much simpler to slip back into the brave bravado she usually projects, which more often than not is a reflection of her reality. But this display of uncertainty, of openness, makes Christen grateful for the months they spent getting to know each other as friends. She knows that the trust they built may have started under false pretenses but since they finally put it all out on the table, it feels like they’re invincible, like nothing can come between them. 

Christen squeezes Tobin’s elbow. There are so many things she could say, so many things she wants to, but a simple, “Thank you for being you,” will suffice for now. 

She’ll have plenty of time for the rest later. 


End file.
